


The Brighton Ice Cream Parlour

by rotrude



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Ice Cream Parlors, M/M, Romance, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotrude/pseuds/rotrude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a long standing family tradition, Merlin opens an ice cream parlour. Arthur becomes one of his most assiduous customers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brighton Ice Cream Parlour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> My most heartfelt thanks go to Crideon for betaing this story so quickly and efficiently! I really, really owe you! (ii) I'm gifting this story to Deminos because a) she's a great friend and b) because the plot's entirely hers!

Merlin had always wanted to have his own business. He had always known he needed to be his own boss and the one responsible for his own success or failure. That might have to do with the fact that he didn't take orders well or the fact he was by nature very enterprising. Either way the day Merlin opened his own ice cream parlour was a happy day.

He had mortgaged himself ten ways to Sunday. He had renovated the premises himself. He had bought bucket-loads of paint, redone the walls so they were a bright mint colour, bought used furniture at a local arts and craft fair and reshaped it into something sturdy and pretty to look at. Meaning to do the best he could from a business perspective, he had acquired all the equipment an ice cream parlour ought to have. He had pasteurisers and homogenisers, ageing vats and a huge blast freezer. 

Armed with all of these paraphrenalia, he had opened on a warm spring day, the sun shining on his awning and the sea sparkling in the distance. At first he'd had next to no customers. His was a new business and since he had spent all his money on getting it to even open he had none left for advertising. That had been a great downer. He'd had hopes not of biblical crowds but at least of moderate streams of customers. But the number of patrons had remained in the single digits and Merlin had taken to envisioning bankruptcy and a grim future made of trying to repay the enormous debt he had acquired.

But then customers started trickling in. Merlin had no idea if it was word of mouth or fate going in his favour, but the fact remained, people were buying his ice cream.

That was when Arthur made his first appearance in Merlin's life.

The first time Merlin saw him, Arthur was just a suited blur dashing past. The second time he stopped in his tracks, took in the parlour and then bustled past much like he previously had. The third time Merlin clapped eyes on him, Arthur dithered by the glass doors, a foot on the step but didn't enter. So when Merlin spotted him again, he lifted his hand, waved, and smiled too.

The following day Arthur entered the premises and introduced himself, very stiffly but also very politely.

And from that moment on he kept dropping by.

 

****

 

Arthur made it into Alice's to the sound of the jingling shop bell. He was wearing a suit, though the tie had been loosened, and carrying a briefcase. It was leather, and shiny, patently new.

“Hello, Arthur,” Merlin said from behind the counter. “What can I get you today?”

Arthur fiddled with his tie and slogged forward. He leant over the display case, hummed under his breath and said, “I'll have a bowl of chocolate ice-cream.” 

“Good choice, chocolate is always a classic,” Merlin said, turning to grab one of the styrofoam bowls from the shelf behind him. “Small, medium or large?”

Arthur's head came up. “Um, large.” He fished his wallet out of his jacket pocket. “It's all home made, isn't it?”

“Oh, yes,” Merlin said, scooping ice cream into the bowl. “All our ingredients are grown, harvested, raised and processed in an ecological manner and put together from scratch.”

“You making such an effort in this day and age is truly worthy of praise.” Arthur smiled. It was not a formal smile. It was a friendly smile, one of the best and most genuine ones Merlin had seen since he'd involved himself in the retail business. “Brave choice too. What with the competition.”

Merlin ladled more ice cream in Arthur's bowl than he normally would, so that the concoction was stuffed right up to the rim. “Erm, thanks. I do believe in the virtues of organic food, but the truth is I'm just respecting my aunt's legacy.”

“Your aunt?”

Merlin packed ice around the styrofoam lid. “You must have wondered.” He nodded at the sign hanging outside. “Alice?”

Arthur left a fifty pound banknote on the counter, ruffled his hair, and said, “I thought it was your girlfriend.”

Merlin laughed. “Oh, no. I don't have a girlfriend.”

Arthur widened his eyes and tilted his head back. “Single then?”

“Yes.” Merlin paused, pondered the appropriateness of saying what he was about to say, then ploughed on regardless. “And pretty much gay.”

Arthur broke into a wide smile, but didn't otherwise comment.

Merlin, for his part, was just relieved Arthur didn't think Merlin's openness about his personal business creepy. People went to him to buy treats not to hear his sexual history. “Um, your ice cream.” Merlin bagged the container and pushed it across the counter.

“Thank you,” Arthur said, moving the banknote across the counter so Merlin would notice it.

Merlin blushed. “I'll have go get the change.”

Working a few keys, Merlin opened the till's cash drawer. There was only a lone tenner in there. Merlin looked sheepishly at it and said, “Slow day today.” He thumbed at the area behind him. “I'll go get the change from my wallet.”

“There's no need.” Arthur shifted his weight. “It's just change.”

Merlin was afraid he was goggling. “It's £35 change!”

Arthur shrugged.

“No way. I'm just nipping in the back and getting you your money.” Merlin quickly retreated into the back room and rooted into his wallet like a madman. He found a twenty note in there, which together with the ten from the till, made thirty. He just needed to scrounge up a fiver somewhere. He started with his pockets. He located some coins. Once he'd plundered the depths of his rucksack and had found some more small change, he made ready to make it back to the front.

The moment he bounded in there, he realised Arthur was gone. There was a scribbled note on the counter that said, “I had to run. Do not worry about the change. Yours, AP.”

Merlin went bug eyed. He didn't know whether he wanted to knock some sense into Arthur or be thoroughly warmed by the gesture. Either way he meant to repay Arthur in kind.

 

****

Three days hadn't passed yet, when Arthur dropped by again. He was wearing another suit. This one was charcoal, highlighted by a blue tie.

“I was looking forward to seeing you,” Merlin said, stamping the brightest smile he could on his lips.

Arthur raked a hand through his hair from the back up. “Really?”

“Oh I owe you so much ice-cream, you have no idea.” Merlin laughed

“Oh.” Arthur dipped his head. “I see.”

Merlin could see he'd said something wrong, but couldn't pin down what. So he just talked, in the hopes that he could make up for whatever faux pas he'd made. “I could give you your change of course, but I thought maybe you'd prefer to have more ice cream since you eat so much anyway?” Merlin lifted his shoulders, flashed Arthur another smile. “Up to you!”

“I'll have the ice-cream,” Arthur said, approaching the display.

“What flavour shall we go for this week?”

“Let's go for something less traditional this time.”

“Oh we have plenty of that.” Merlin picked up a scoop. “We've got Rosewater Ice, Cashew Caramel, Wild-berry Lavender and a few more...”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Bubble Gum and M&M,” Arthur said, moving over to the area of the refrigerated case where these flavours were displayed. “Yes, I think they'll do.”

Merlin's lips quirked. “Well, they're certainly very popular choices, especially with our younger customers, but I've always said adults should nurture their, eh, youthful side.”

“And do you do that yourself?” Arthur asked with a frown of interest.

Merlin opened the display case. “I most certainly do.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Most people may even think I'm too childish.”

“No.” Arthur shakes his head. “You're perfect as you are.”

Merlin's neck and face burned. He felt the urge to say, “no, you are,” because honestly if there was anyone who was perfect that was Arthur: he looked good, seemed nice, and liked ice cream. But Merlin couldn't go and blurt that out. It could come across as him harassing his customers. “Mmm, thank you,” he said and filled two bowls full of ice cream so he didn't have to look Arthur in the eyes. “That's the, um, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.”

“Really?” Arthur's lips quirked. “Then they're all idiots.”

“Oh, I, er--” Merlin spluttered. So as to save face he said, “Here's your ice cream.”

“That's two bowls,” Arthur said, pushing one back.

How Arthur could have ignored the fact Merlin had been busy filling two containers was somewhat mind boggling, but apparently he had, so he said, “Yes, you're getting one free because I owe you.”

“I couldn't possibly--” Arthur started, drawing himself up and over articulating each word. “I ought to--”

“I won't accept money when I already owe you so much.” Merlin could be as stubborn as the best of them if he put his mind to it. “That won't happen. So...”

“I can't not pay!” Arthur said, reworking his stance by widening his legs, a full on pout appearing on his lips. “I've never not paid.”

“First time for everything,” Merlin said sing-song. “I won't take it back now. It's been out of the fridge for too long.”

“But that's a ton of ice cream,” Arthur said, swallowing.

“You can throw a themed party,” Merlin says, “or give some away, but I'm not taking it back.”

Arthur huffed but grabbed the containers. “I still object. On principle.”

“Can't help you there,” Merlin said, his lips quivering with mirth. “Still hope you'll enjoy it.”

“You can be really annoying, can't you?” Arthur said, cocking his head.

“You said I was perfect as I was,” Merlin said, though he wasn't sure why he was reminding Arthur of that or why doing so made him feel hot about the face. “Short memory?”

Arthur was startled into a full bellied laugh that brought definite tears to his eyes. He wiped at them, his lips rounding upwards even when he'd sobered enough to say, “Now don't be a literalist.”

“Just claiming my dues here.” Merlin's voice was stifled by laughter.

“I'll see what I can do about reinstating you in my good books if--”

A woman in a peach dress entered, holding a child by the hand.

Merlin straightened his cap and tried to put on a more professional expression by dimming the wattage of his smile. He flashed the new customers one more suited for general consumption.

Arthur clacked his tongue, held a hand up and said, “See you around, Merlin.”

Merlin waved back. “Bye, Arthur!”

 

**** 

 

It was raining cats and dogs and had been for the better part of the morning and afternoon. Water came gushing down drain pipes in cascades that made as much noise as Niagara Falls. It came out in in large puddles that expanded like minor lakes between the pavement and the entrance to Alice's.

It was really truly miserable out there. The more so since seaside towns became truly depressing when the sun didn’t come out to play.

Given that chilled people were unlikely to buy ice-cream, Merlin hadn't had a customer since he'd opened and thus could only stare glumly, and with a measure of envy, at the neighbouring coffee shop, which was instead full to the gunwales.

Merlin was deep in his sudoku puzzle, when out of the corner of his eyes he spied a pair of trouser clad legs. The crease in said trousers was as sharp as a the edge of a blade and the overall ironing of the garment was indeed top-notch. It didn't take a genius to guess who the new customer was. Without looking up from his puzzle Merlin said, “Arthur! Already finished your ice cream stash?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Arthur said, shaking his umbrella dry, and putting it in the stand.

“You do seem to eat a lot,” Merlin said, smiling wide. “Are you sure it's okay for your health?”

“Isn't that statement defeating the purpose of having this place open?” Arthur gestured at the premises. “You should be shoving ice cream down people's throats, not discouraging them from buying more! That's really terrible for business.”

“I'm not that good of a businessman then,” Merlin said. “I'd rather my customers be fine.”

“Are you implying I'm getting fat?” Arthur said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Yes. Yes that's what I'm doing.” Merlin shook his head, a smile on his face.

Arthur's lips stretched further and further. “Because I'll have you know I'm in top form.”

Merlin tutted. “Top? I wouldn't say top.”

“And what would you say?”

If he could only do so without blushing like an overripe tomato, Merlin'd say that Arthur was gorgeous. But he couldn't quite, so he said, “I'd say you were fine... er in fine form.”

“So,” Arthur said, rubbing his finger under his nose and advancing till he was leaning against the counter, “you think I'm fine?”

“I corrected myself!” Merlin said, his voice rising. “I said fine form, eventually.”

“Does your appreciation of my form perchance mean--” Arthur looked up and his eyes flared a bit, “--that you'd accept a dinner invitation?”

Merlin knew that he shouldn't make a pass at a customer. It wasn't professional at all. But the customer seemed to have made a pass at him, so technically Merlin wouldn't be morally to blame for this one. “Yes. I would.”

“The Restaurant at the Drakes, Saturday, 8 pm?” Arthur asked, rushing the words out.

Merlin had read about that restaurant in the papers. It came with a lot of positive reviews and was apparently very posh. With Merlin still owing a few quid to Arthur, he didn't really feel like asking him to plunk down even more money on him, so he said, “Why don't you come to mine?”

“To yours? Arthur expelled a big breath to go with the words.

“Yeah, to mine.” Merlin said before he started dreading that perhaps he'd got too carried away. “But maybe you don't want to. Because you don't know me and of course who'd go to someone's place without knowing them well and--”

Arthur flailed his hands to get Merlin's attention. “I would. I will.”

Merlin was likely making a very stupid face by now. “Really?”

“Yes.” Arthur smirked. “This Saturday, at eight.”

 

**** 

 

Merlin opened the door to a casually dressed Arthur. Gone were the suite and tie, the briefcase and the severe hairstyle. Arthur was now wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Trainers were on his feet and his hair was tousled. He was grabbing a bottle of white wine by the neck. “Arthur, come in!”

“I didn't get here too early, did I?”

“Oh, no,” Merlin said, ushering Arthur in while trying not to ogle too much. This laid back version of Arthur was even more scrumptious than the primly turned out one. “I was just finishing cooking.”

“So you don't only make fantastic ice cream?” Arthur advanced into the depths of Merlin's tiny flat until he made it to the kitchen. “But you cook too?”

“Erm, I got those Chicken Fajta quesadillas from Artisan Deli, actually.” Merlin wished he'd had the ability to pull those off by himself, but they were completely and utterly beyond his culinary range. “But I swear I made the cheese and avocado bagels all by myself.”

“We have a chef here,” Arthur said, placing the wine bottle on the table.

“Erm, you know I--”

“Just bought the bagels from the bakery and only piled the cheese and avocado on top?” Arthur's eyes roamed the table. “I guessed that when you mentioned Artisan Deli, actually.”

Merlin intuited Arthur wanted the bottle opener so he passed it to him. “I see. I'm an open book.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him, quirked his lips, and made a tutting sound. “I wouldn't go as far as to say that.” He cut across the foil covering the front and top of the bottle.

“So I haven't lost my mysterious aura, have I?” Merlin said.

“No,” Arthur said, setting the screw and rotating it straight into the cork. “I think there's still quite a lot I'd like to find out about you.” Arthur looked up from what he was doing. “Quite a lot.”

They ate in the kitchen, seated one across from the other, low volume music playing from Merlin's phone. It was something soft and bassy, but not romantic, because Merlin didn't want Arthur to think he was trying too hard – though he couldn't say he wasn't daydreaming of starting things with him.

Arthur was nice to talk to. He discussed his job, his day to day life, his family. He was more open about it than Merlin would have guessed based on his manners. Merlin had fancied Arthur would be tight lipped about everything. Instead he was game to tell Merlin about a lot of private issues. He said he liked his job and the challenge of it, but that it wasn't his passion. That he'd taken it up to please his father, who had high expectations of him, and to challenge his sister. “It's that kind of relationship, you know. Based on...”

“Sibling rivalry?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, moving the food in his plate with the fork before taking a mouthful of chicken. “Something like that. We're both very competitive.”

“I can only imagine.” There was something about Arthur's attitude that made him seem to be the kind of man who liked winning.

“But there's also the fact I found out she was my sister when I was fourteen.”

Merlin's eyebrows went up. “What did you think she was before?”

“The orphaned girl my father adopted.”

“Well, that's very...”

“You can say it, you know.” Arthur took a bite. “A bit soap-operaish?”

“I would never compare your life to EastEnders,” Merlin said. Then with a wink he added, “Maybe Hollyoakes.”

Arthur snorted through his nostrils and held his sides. When he looked up, his eyes were dancing with amusement. “You're quite something, Merlin, aren't you?”

Merlin didn't reply, too busy basking in Arthur's warm tone.

“What about you, Merlin? Have you got brothers, sisters?”

“No, growing up it was just me and my mum.” Generally, Merlin glossed over that. Not because he had anything to hide but because he didn't want to get awkward reactions from people. But with Arthur he thought he could try. “My dad scarpered when I was little. I'm not sure if I even remember him.”

“I'm sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said, without any of the awkwardness that people radiated when they learnt about that part of Merlin's past. “I've never been in the same specific situation as yours, but I do think I understand some of what you went through.” His eyes fell to the wine glass between them. “My mother died giving birth to me, so I think I understand what it means, missing one parent.”

Merlin leant forward in in chair. “I'm so --”

“You don't need to say it,” Arthur said, placing his hand on top of Merlin's. “I know.”

Arthur's touch was warming Merlin to the core and made it difficult for him to concentrate enough to find words to say. “So you've already sussed me out. You...” Merlin smiled, “have found out that I'm one emotional sod. Now you'll want to run for the hills.”

Arthur squeezed his hand and said, “I want to do quite the opposite.”

Because he needed a few moments to process what Arthur had just said, Merlin jumped up and got the ice-cream from the freezer. “Knowing how much you liked ice cream I did some homework.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, scratching at the side of his nose. “Ice cream.”

Merlin placed the container on the drainer. “Yes, I experimented a little with this batch.”

“Experimented?”

Merlin took a couple of bowls from the cupboard. “Yeah, I tried new ingredients, new combinations. I went off what you liked and worked with that.”

“Um,” Arthur said, staring ahead. “I suppose it took you an awful lot of time?”

“Some.” Merlin hoped Arthur wouldn't find out he'd been at it for the better part of three days, trying out new recipes and such, but he had a sinking feeling he had made it out all the same. “You like confectionery based ice cream, don't you?”

“Er, yes.”

Merlin ladled some into Arthur's bowl and sat across from him again. “Try these then. It's pistachio but made with a higher egg-to-cream ratio than other custard-based ice creams.”

“You really love making ice-cream, don't you?”

“Oh, yes,” Merlin said, shoving some of his own sorbet into his mouth. “It's a family tradition. Some of the recipes are brand new. It's basically me testing out new stuff. But this--” He lifts the spoon. “This is straight out of Aunt Alice's cookbook.”

“So,” Arthur said, licking at the very tip of the spoon. “It's very meaningful to you?”

Merlin tried not to make eyes at Arthur, to ignore the way he was practically fellating Merlin's silverware. “Yes. It's certainly more than just a business. It something that matters... A legacy. A way to make my family proud.”

“I see,” Arthur said, digging his spoon into the frozen heart of his pistachio ice cream with determination etched on his face.

“I didn't mean to wax poetic about desserts,” Merlin said, then gesturing with his spoon, he added, “You don't have to eat it if you don't like it.”

“No,” Arthur said, shoving a spoonful into his mouth. “I love it really.”

“You sure?” Merlin asked, because Arthur had weird tension lines around his mouth. “Maybe I made it too cream-heavy? It can happen when I'm trying out new recipes.”

“No, it's fantastic, I swear.” Arthur stuffed even more ice cream in his mouth.

Once they were done with dinner and had had coffee, they moved to the lounge. They sat on the sofa, facing each other. Arthur crossed his legs and stretched his arm over the back of the piece of furniture.

Merlin shifted in place. “So.”

“So,” Arthur said at the same time Merlin did.

They both laughed under their breath and dipped their heads at the same time.

Merlin felt a low buzz of excitement course under his skin. He wanted to smile for no particular reason and was giddy enough not to care about how silly it'd look. “I had a good evening.”

“Me too.” Arthur's eyes were smiling just as much as his lips were twitching.

“Really?” Merlin said leaning closer to Arthur.

“Yes.” Arthur bridged more of the gap between them. “I'd even go as far as to say it was the best evening I've had in a long while.”

“Mmm.” Merlin considered Arthur's body language – the head tilting, the increased proximity – and judged it was safe for him to initiate a kiss. So he slanted his head and touched his lips to Arthur's.

Arthur smiled against the touch, then his lips parted and Merlin's tongue touched the tip of his. It was fantastic. Warmth curled under his ribs and he tingled with excitation. On a tide of sheer feeling, he slid his mouth against Arthur's and crumpled the collar of his shirt so as to pull him to him. He was about to deepen the kiss, when Arthur blanched, his lips went rigid under Merlin and he vaulted off the sofa.

“I've got to go,” Arthur said, racing towards the door.

Merlin blinked, then called out after Arthur, “Did I do something wrong?”

But by then the door had clicked shut and Merlin's stomach fallen to his toes.

 

**** 

 

Sweat pouring off his body, Merlin pedalled up the slope.

“There's something wrong with you,” Gwaine said, giving him a severe once over from his perch on his bike.

The road straightened and Merlin sank back on the saddle. “There's nothing wrong with me.”

“We've been cycling from the Marina Village to Cheley and you've not said a word. That's miles. Miles.”

“That's because,” Merlin said, changing gears and starting on an avenue lined by trees, “I've been concentrating on beating my record from our last outing.”

Gwaine studied his watch. “We've been slower than last time and hardly pushing it.”

“Mmpf,” Merlin said, as he steered his bike down the path and plunging into the shade provided by the curtain of trees. “Not true.”

“Come on, Merlin,” Gwaine said, steering his bike perilously close to Merlin's. “Out with the truth.”

Merlin swerved, shook his head, smiled. “Shit head.”

“Come on,” Gwaine said, ringing his bell. “Out with it.”

Merlin laughed at the shrill little noise and signalled with his hand. He pushed the bike into a side lane and braked in proximity to a shoulder. He found a rest area and leant his bike against the wooden table. With his gear seen to, he waited for Gwaine. “Will you promise that you won't laugh at me if I talk about it?” Merlin said, taking off his helmet.

“Well, mate.” Gwaine slackened the strap and took his own helmet off. “It depends on what you're going to say.”

Merlin scowled, shook his head, but couldn't keep it up for long. His lips quivered into the beginnings of a smile. “This is going to be devastatingly embarrassing, isn't it?”

“It's not going to be more embarrassing than that time you ran around campus with your head shaved.”

Merlin had that down as the worst prank that had ever been played on him. “Erm, I think it's on a par though I retaliated then and this... well this is just sad.”

“Okay,” Gwaine said, his Gatorade bottle hollowing in the middle as he drank a long pull from it, “this is going to be interesting.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Gwaine but ploughed on all the same. “Have you ever caused someone to run away screaming because you kissed them?”

“Scream with pleasure, yeah,” Gwaine said, smirking horribly smugly. “The other thing, not so much.”

Merlin kicked him in the shin. “Shut up, you colossal berk.”

Gwaine shifted in his seat. “No, but really, are we talking literally?”

“I made up the screaming part,” Merlin said, his spirits sinking as he recalled what had happened Saturday night. “But he did run away mid kiss. One moment I had my tongue in his mouth and the next he was rushing out the door.”

Gwaine burst out laughing. “Oh God,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “This can't be true.”

“I assure you,” Merlin said, his mouth tight around the words. “It is.”

“That's really epic levels of bad, Merlin,” said Gwaine.

“Yeah.” Merlin cringed. “I know.”

“Are you sure it's because of the kiss though?”

“I don't know, Gwaine,” Merlin said, making big duh eyes at Gwaine. “It was all going so well, best date I've had in a long time, we connected--”

“Woohoo,” Gwaine said, as though Merlin hadn't been talking about being dumped on his arse.

Merlin acted as though Gwaine hadn't interjected at all. “And then he ran for the hills.”

“Are you sure you didn't say anything offensive before the kiss?” Gwaine arched an eyebrow.

“I'm not you, Gwaine.”

“I refuse to believe you're that bad of a kisser,” Gwaine said, tapping his lip. “You sure you don't want to try it on me?”

“No!” Merlin laughed. “And aren't you straight?”

“Yes, but not averse!”

“I'm not kissing you.” That'd be weird. He'd known Gwaine too long and had come to think of him as something not too dissimilar from a brother. “Forget that about your raging libido and tell me what to do.”

“I have no sodding idea what you should do,” Gwaine said, showing him his open palms. “That's the long and short of it.”

Merlin put his head in his hand and sighed. “But should I call him!”

“That's what I did when my last lady-friend stood me up,” Gwaine told him. “So I got round to hers, knocked on her door. She opened, saw who it was, then slammed the door shut in my face. Came this close to chopping my nose off.”

“Whatever had you done to her?” Merlin asked, unable to stop laughing.

“Nothing!” Gwaine made his mock angelic face. “Well, perhaps I may have wolf-whistled at another girl while she was present, but the second girl was fit.”

Merlin's eyes crinkled though the crinkles smoothed the moment he remembered his own predicament. “So you think I shouldn't contact him?”

“I don't think it's going to end well if you do.” Gwaine shrugged.

Merlin felt Arthur's loss more keenly now than he had when he'd skedaddled out of Merlin's. That had been humiliating and had made him feel wrong footed for days. But Gwaine's words put a totally different spin on it, make of what happened a definitive thing. He and Arthur were officially over before they had a chance to be anything at all. “Um, I--” Merlin bowed his head. “Liked him.”

“I'll find you someone else to sex up!” Gwaine said, a concerned look replacing his leer when his words failed to Merlin laugh. “Honest. And if you don't want that, well, we can have a boys' night out and get properly sloshed and pour out hearts out.”

Merlin quirked his lips, stood, grabbed his helmet and said, “I think I'll pass, but thank you.”

Gwaine picked himself up too. “Well, have it your own way, but my offer still stands.”

Merlin mounted on his bicycle. “How about we ride inverse back to Brighton?”

 

**** 

 

Merlin had just finished serving an old lady and her grand-kids, when a tall bloke with a variation on the benevolent Jesus haircut walked in. “You're Merlin, right?”

Merlin's mouth slowly opened. “Yeah, that's me? I swear I paid all my taxes.”

“I'm not from Revenue and Taxes,” the man said with a friendly smile. “I'm here for a rather different and arguably odd reason.”

“Okay,” Merlin said, bracing himself for whatever this man was going to say. “Let's hear this.”

“My name's Leon Steady and I'm a friend of Arthur Pendragon's.” Leon shifted in place.

“Arthur.” Merlin's heart made a climb for his throat and started beating fast right there, so that Merlin felt as if he was about to choke. “Arthur Pendragon.”

“Yes, see,” Leon began, “Arthur is very partial to you and apparently you're not seeing each other, which has made him very glum.”

Merlin's face burned. “I don't think Arthur... erm, wants to be friends anymore.”

Leon barked out a laugh. “Oh, believe me he wants to be friends. And when I say friends I'm using a euphemism.”

“Uh?” Merlin was not sure he followed. Arthur had ran out on him and that didn't really signal a will to stay friends.

“Let's say Arthur has been beating himself about the head about what happened,” Leon told him.

“I'm sorry but I don't see how that makes sense.” Merlin didn't want to hope there had been a misunderstanding. “He ran away. I have a feeling you only do that when you're pretty much done with the person you're with.”

Leon reddened a bit. “Well, let's say Arthur was forced to get going.”

“How?” This made less and less sense.

“Arthur is lactose intolerant,” Leon said, biting his lip. “Has always been. He ate ice cream at yours and had to, well--” Leon reddened. “--scram, so to speak.”

Merlin laughed a little bit incredulously. “Look, I get you're trying to do your friend a good turn, but Arthur's bought tons of ice cream. I know. I served him. I hardly think he's lactose intolerant. He'd have been crazy to come here otherwise.”

“More like crazy in love.” Leon cast his gaze down. “Look, all the ice cream he bought? He gave it to us. His friends and family. His nephew's been having a great time.” Leon patted his stomach. “Hell, I think I've put on a few good kilos since he started seeing you.”

“But why would he?” Merlin was honest to God trying to understand why someone would do something like that. Surely, the theory Arthur wasn't that into him was one hundred times more logical. “I don't get it.”

“I don't claim to say what he did makes sense to rational people,” Leon told him, shrugging. “But he likes you, probably thought that if he bought some ice cream from you he'd have a chance to chat you up. Having hit it off that way, I believe he didn't know how to admit to the lie.”

“Okay, all right,” Merlin said, thinking Leon's words over. “But why hasn't he called if that was the case?”

“He's hopelessly embarrassed,” Leon answered so promptly Merlin was positive he had rehearsed it. “I'm sure he fears he's offended you. That would be just like Arthur, blaming himself.” Leon sighed. “Every day he comes into work with such a long face and a pout worthy of Grumpy Cat.”

“But he hasn't said he's feeling that way about me?” Merlin really needed to have his facts before he did anything stupid. “Has he?”

“He let drop he was sure you never wanted to see him again after he'd--” Leon waved his hands about and made faces. “Hastened out of yours. It doesn't take a genius, especially after you've known Arthur for a while, to know that's the reason he's upset. Seriously, Merlin, call him, you'll save us all a lot of heartache.”

“But are you sure?” Merlin had been rebuffed once he wasn't looking forward to being rejected again, and that was what would happen if Leon was wrong. “Really sure?”

“Utterly and completely. I've known Arthur since I was in nappies.”

Merlin strove not to dwell on the mental image. “Where does Arthur work?”

“At Pendragon and Bayard.” Leon pointed backwards. “The legal firm right down the street.”

Merlin took his hair cap and his apron off, rounded the counter so he was on the customer side and passed his gear to Leon. “Wear these.”

“What?” Leon made faces at the items Merlin had shoved at him. “Why?”

“I can't close shop and I have no one I can call right now to hold the fort,” Merlin said. “You said it yourself, it's the place down the road. I'll be gone ten minutes, fifteen tops. Please.”

Leon hesitated, looking at Merlin's cap and apron as if they were alien devices. “What if customers come in?”

“It's pretty simple really, we have three bowl sizes, let the customer choose which one they want,” Merlin said, “along with the flavour. That's it.”

“What about the till?” Leon said, his eyebrows going up.

“I'm sure you'll work it great,” Merlin said, grabbing his raincoat and putting it on.

“Okay, but--”

“Just wish me good luck,” Merlin said, and before Leon could object, he'd rushed out of the shop and into the street.

Because he didn't trust Leon not to mess it up, Merlin ran. People, of course, stared as he sped down the street as if he was shooting some kind of Adidas commercial. Some passers-by called out, “Where you off to in such a hurry?” and others just whistled. Ignoring his audience, Merlin hurried past the florist, past the baker – whom he hollerred a hello to – jumped a dog on a leash and finally skidded to a halt before the building that bore a plaque saying, Pendragon and Bayard, attorneys at law.

Merlin entered the building, took the stairs at a skip and found the door to the office open. He slipped inside without anyone stopping him. Behind the reception desk there was no secretary but a woman in a business suit glided past on her way out. Not seeing what else he should do, he asked, “Erm, excuse me, madam, could you perhaps point me to Arthur Pendragon's office?”

“Arthur?” The woman frowned and cocked her head. “Arthur's office is the last but one on the left.”

“Thank you so much!” Merlin said, making sure he was beaming as he did so. Then he took off at speed, moving against a tide of people going in the opposite direction.

After bumping into a few – notably a sharply suited, grey haired man who looked daggers at him – Merlin made it into a small office entirely dissimilar from what he'd imagined. It was small and cluttered with binders and paperwork. The one desk occupied most of the viable space. Behind it Arthur was sitting. He had his head bowed over a pile of papers.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, cringing a bit at the idea of interrupting Arthur while he was working, but fearing he would never get the courage up again if he didn't do it now. “Hi, Arthur.”

Arthur looked up, eyes round and mouth slightly parted. “Merlin!”

“Yeah, that's me,” Merlin said. “And you must be wondering why I'm here. The answer is quite simple really.”

Arthur kept on gaping.

“I know what happened.” Merlin decided it was wise not to involve Leon, who'd just tried to do him a good one, so he didn't mention him by name. “I understand you were embarrassed and I would also understand if you didn't want to see me again because you associate me with a deep feeling of mortification.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair. “But on the off chance you're willing to give me another try, well, I'd like you to know that I like you a lot and I'd be chuffed if you'd consider me again.”

Arthur's eyes had rounded progressively the more Merlin spoke but now a soft light shone in them. “You're not turned off?”

“Turned off?” Merlin tilted his head.

“Yes, by the whole...” Arthur waved his hand. “Belly cramps debacle.”

“Are you joking!” Merlin quirked the side of his mouth. “You had to go.”

“Because that's sexy.”

“Never mind sexy,” Merlin said, locking his hands together so he would not fidget as he expatiated on the subject. “Look, who's sexy one hundred percent of the time?” Merlin made a funny face. “I think no one who isn't on the centre spread of a glossy magazine is the right answer. And those aren't exactly tailored to match day-to-day reality, are they?” Merlin shook his head, sighed, doubted he was expressing himself well. “I don't have expectations of perfection from anyone I date. Things sometimes happen, and well, we're not always at our best. But it doesn't matter, not to me, and I want you to know that I like you, no matter what.”

“Really?” Arthur flashed him a smug smile.

“Yeah.” Merlin gave him a grin of his own. “Though next time, please, do not eat any ice-cream.”

Arthur stood, rounded the desk. “I didn't mean to. But you had made it, with no prior warning or I'd have swallowed a lactase pill, and I just didn't have the heart to tell you you'd done all of that for nothing.” Arthur's face went considerably redder.

“That's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard.” Merlin's surely love-addled expression became partly sterner. “But don't do that again!”

Arthur gave him a military salute.

“I thought I'd made you run away.” Merlin looked away. “That I'd mortally offended you or skeeved you out.”

Arthur placed his hands on Merlin's waist, hesitantly at first, then putting more weight behind his touch. “I like you. The way I like you is, well, more powerful than I expected. Experiencing it was like being hit by a freight train--”

“Ouch, that doesn't sound pleasant.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, huffed. “Shut up. What I was trying to say is that I'm partial to you or I wouldn't have acted like an lovelorn adolescent. I was an idiot.”

“Your kind of idiocy was quite sweet.” Merlin took a step forward until there was no space between him and Arthur. “I think it's making me stupid too.”

“So would you be stupid enough to try another date with me?” Arthur asked, his voice going low.

“I suppose me racing here and invading your premises isn't answer enough,” Merlin said with an exhale that was admittedly theatrical. “In which case I'll say, yeah, I want to go on a bloody date with you.”

Arthur kissed him and that shut Merlin's further rumblings down.

 

***** 

 

The date took place at a restaurant. It wasn't posh and it wasn't too run of the mill, which suited the both of them in the way of most good compromises. Most of all it served precious few dairy products. Merlin wasn't falling into that trap again.

The conversation between Merlin and Arthur flowed fast, but there was more ease to it than there had been during their first tête at tête. They now knew where they stood. Merlin had made his grand gesture when he'd practically invaded Arthur's office. Arthur had admitted to liking Merlin and acting like a fool for him. So in that sense they were working from a position of mutual understanding. When Arthur said, “So yours or mine?” the answer was really a no brainer.

The moment they got to Merlin's, Arthur grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to him. Merlin went with with a smile on his lips. He'd been waiting for this all evening long so he wasn't about to protest. Rather he wrapped his arms around Arthur and kissed the corner of Arthur's mouth. Arthur turned his head to centre the kiss, but Merlin touched his lips to his jaw, his temple, his cheek.

“Kiss me,” Arthur said.

Easing his head closer to Arthur, Merlin teased a kiss to Arthur's mouth. Then another and another until they parted for breath. “Happy now?” Merlin asked.

“Not quite.”

Arthur caught his lips with his mouth and held the kiss for a few beats of nothing but soft pressure before he reworked his stance. He moved backwards and to the side, rolled his shoulders, then dove back in again. He wound his arms around Merlin, smiling softly, and touched his back in a slide of fingers playing the notches of his spine.

As Arthur raked his teeth across his chin and jaw, Merlin trembled and shivers ran under his skin. The tendons in his neck straining, his breath coming in harsh incremental gasps, Arthur fumbled for his mouth with his. Their tongues touched and slid inside their mouths, wetted gums, and licked teeth. Merlin placed his hands on Arthur's belly, where his skin rippled and was warm. Arthur gasped. Merlin wasn't sure whether it was because he liked the touch or because his hands were cold. He huffed, said, "All right?"

"More than," Arthur said, mouthing Merlin's pulse point, skating his hands down his spine and sliding them round, brushing against bare skin.

"How about moving this to the bedroom then?"

Arthur nodded, pushed him backwards but in the wrong direction.

Through the laughter, Merlin said, "That's the other way around."

They negotiated the twists and turns of Merlin's flat and managed to find the right room. Merlin had barely had time to turn the bedside light on, when Arthur pushed him on the bed and climbed on top of him.

The air was pushed out of Merlin's lungs and that made him silly, or perhaps giddiness was having a field day with him. Either way he felt he couldn't think past the knot of emotion that sat low in his belly and high in his chest, right where his heart was. He smiled. This was fine; it was good because he was here in bed with Arthur. 

Arthur ran his fingers along the contours of Merlin's face, swiping his thumbs across Merlin's cheeks, down the ridge of his nose, and across the swell of his mouth. He leant down, kissed Merlin, then stroked his throat. Merlin sucked in a breath, skated his hands up Arthur's forearms, pulled him down so he could bury his head in his neck, breathe him in. He indulged himself, grazing his lips along Arthur's warm skin, breathing the scent of him ‘til his lungs where heavy with it. Then Arthur moved and Merlin did too and they hardened in one dizzying moment of sheer breathlessness. 

The notion their clothes had to come off seemed to hit them at the same time. Arthur sat back, his weight heavy on Merlin. He slipped out of his jumper with ease, the motion fluid. Merlin strained forward, helped him peel his under-shirt off. He kissed Arthur's chest then skimmed open lips along his collarbones. Arthur's breath hitched; Merlin caught the ripple in the pattern off Arthur's body. It echoed in his skipped heartbeat, in his long exhale. Arthur tugged his belt free. Their lips met for a brief but warm kiss, then Arthur was off him, pushing his trousers down with a hurry that would have made Merlin laugh if he didn't feel pretty much as eager.

He wanted to be be able to savour some flesh on flesh contact, and soon.

The shirt was easy. It came off with one pull. To get rid of the rest, he had to sit up and bend over, undo the laces of his trainers and kick them off together with his jeans and underwear. And then he was naked and shivering and hard.

Arthur slid back into his lap and grabbed his face. He sucked on his lips and started rocking against him. Merlin lay back on the mattress.

Arthur dipped his head and lined his chest with kisses. Merlin cupped his neck, threaded his fingers through Arthur's hair. It was soft, the strands easily parted. It still gave off a subtle shampoo scent, something floral. Merlin would have kept petting it, if Arthur hadn't taken his breath by skimming his lips over his nipples. And that sparked a more compelling sense of need into Merlin. He worked a hand between them, took Arthur in it.

Arthur's eyes widened so Merlin could see the tiny flecks of colour in it, read the hue variations in his irises.

“Want you,” Arthur said even though he didn't need to because Merlin knew it in the same way he understood his own instincts.

Arthur cast about for a condom, but only found after Merlin told him, "drawer, drawer, bedside," in a confusion of words pressed right to his ear, together with kisses and softer murmurings. After a few fumbles Arthur succeeded in opening the foil and slipping it on.

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbled and Merlin kissed his nose because the way colour was spreading from one side of his face to the other moved him to stupid tenderness. "Shall I--" Arthur said but then went cross-eyed trying to articulate.

Merlin eased himself back down, breathed deep, placed his feet flat on the mattress, his legs on either side of Arthur's shoulders. Arthur opened him up slowly and with care, with cool fingers and thumbs, stretching him in slow measures that made Merlin flush from torso to face. It was perfect, somewhat embarrassing in the stark intimacy of it, and wondrous to think about. All the while, they didn't say anything, but it was all right because Merlin appreciated the silence.

Arthur homed inside with ease. He was warm, hot, his breath on Merlin's face, his weight on him. His skin was smooth, but not soft, all solid muscle underneath. His smell was fresh but the tang of sex was starting to waft through and pierce Merlin's nostrils deep.

Merlin bit his lip this side of raw when Arthur shifted. His gaze veered to him and they both smiled at the same time.

Arthur breathed out, “All right?"

"Yeah." It felt good, easy, a little bit intoxicating, very real all of a sudden. All his liking for Arthur taking shape in the spark at the small of his back, in the acceleration of his heartbeat, in the core of his body. "Yeah."

Before he started moving, Arthur kissed him. It was both tender and sloppy; all in all the most heart stopping kiss Merlin had ever been given. Arthur's hands sought purchase, slipped where the skin was sweaty, found an anchor at Merlin's hips. His first rocking motions hit shallowly, but they still undid Merlin with everythrust.

Before long Merlin’s arms and thighs were trembling and Arthur had found a rhythm, a gentle one of push and pull that ignited Merlin slowly and in a way that was more complete than that a frantic pace would have allowed. Because Merlin couldn't not see the smile on Arthur's face nor the addled look of concentration that sometimes shadowed his eyes. And he couldn't not feel him or the sensations Arthur was causing to ripple inside him.

They burnt low, like small fires, like will-o'-the-wisps and just as magical. There was a languor to it, a fullness, but it had no edge of pain to it.

Arthur pulled out of him, a slow glide Merlin felt with his spine and his gut and his heart, and drove back in. He was balancing on top of him, arms straining so his tendons showed in stark lines. He rolled his body forwards like the tide, bought leverage. Merlin liked his pace, worked to match it, to wake more of the pinpricks of pleasure that were blooming under his skin.

He touched his cock, pulled haphazardly because he didn't have the concentration needed to do a good job of it. It still worked. It still made him breathe faster, and gasp and see white. It still made him open his mouth in a sigh and come in slow pulses. His hand got so sticky with it. 

When Merlin wiped his hand on the cover, Arthur kissed his top lip and Merlin pulled him to him by the neck, licking into his mouth with the slowness of the perfectly content. He had to let go when Arthur started grunting. His hips were working in new, harsh rhythms made of fast thrusts and slower backward drags Merlin bucked into, so holding him had become a challenge.

Arthur's eyes rounded, his gaze caught on Merlin's for a second before his mouth slackened and he froze on a long stroke.

"Merlin," he said, or something pretty much like it – Merlin wasn't looking for perfect diction right at that moment – and flopped on top of him.

 

*****

 

After they'd had a nap, Merlin pushed Arthur into the kitchen.

“Why couldn't you let me sleep some more, Merlin,” Arthur said, displaying a rare gift for petulance.

“Hush and grab this,” Merlin said, shoving a spoon into his hand, and pushing him into one of the chairs.

Having left Arthur holding the spoon aloft and looking at it as if it was some very strange instrument, Merlin started rooted into the top fridge compartment. He drew out a bowl of ice-cream.

“Here,” Merlin said, placing the bowl on the table and slipping the lid off. “You can have some.”

“Merlin.” Arthur made a sad face at him, lower lip jutting out and all. “You know I can't.”

“Oh, but don't you know,” Merlin said, grinning like a loon. “This is soy ice cream.”

Arthur grabbed the bowl, dug a spoon into the soft cream confection and shoved it into his mouth. “All mine. This is all mine.”

“What a selfish twat,” Merlin said, but smiled on because seeing Arthur enjoying ice cream was incredibly satisfying.

Besides, he had a secret stash for his private use.

 

The End


End file.
